Soulless Rewrite
by Capricious Contessa
Summary: Set two years after D:O, Mina is now a vampire and moves from place to place with Dracula and his household. Now, one of Dracula's servants has stolen the Demonomicon and now he must find a way to get it back.
1. An Ominous Prediction

_**Two years ago: September 5th 1898**_

_As Mina Murray strolled leisurely along London's shipping docks, she felt free to let her mind wander. If she were alone, she would have perhaps skipped along like a frivolous schoolgirl or splashed in the rain puddles and muddied her boots and the hem of her dress, The sun was quite hot that day, and beat down mercilessly upon her and her fiancé, Jonathan. Seagulls flew across the enamel blue sky, and white puffy clouds carelessly floated by._

_Mina tugged the brim of her hat down further so that it would provide more shade for her face. She took in the sights and sounds of the busy morning, and the delicious smells of the fresh fruit and spices sold in the open air market. "Oh, Jonathan, I forgot." She began. "I'm all out of barley. I'll just go and buy some; I'll only be a minute." She said and hurried off to the stall where a wizened old woman sat. Jonathan leaned on the dock railing and watched the sunlight play off the water of the Thames._

_The woman smiled at her as she paid for her barley. Mina thanked the woman and started back to Jonathan. But not before the old woman stopped her. "Miss, Please wait." She said in a kind voice. Mina turned around. "Yes?" She asked. "I was merely wondering if you wished to buy some of my fresh garlic bulbs." The woman pointed a gnarled finger at some garlic cloves hanging right next to Mina. Mina shook her head. "No, but thank you anyway for the offer." The old woman's smile faltered slightly. "Are you quite certain Miss? Garlic can be very useful when one needs protection lurking evil forces." She said persuasively._

_The woman suddenly turned extremely serious. Her voice lowered to little more above a whisper, so only Mina could hear. A couple strolled by the stall talking and laughing rather loudly, so she waited until they passed to begin. "My child, you are in grave danger. I have seen your future. A demon is after you, hunting for you. Your betrothed is in danger as well. Please take the garlic, for his sake and yours. I speak the truth, and think it wise you make haste to protect yourself. I know not when this demon will come, only that you should be vigilant and watchful and take precautions to keep him at bay."_

_"I am certain. Just the barley will do." Mina said firmly, ignoring the little chill that went down her spine at the word "demon". Mina put the sprigs in her basket and closed the lid. The old woman did not quite relent. Instead her voice grew more frantic and her eyes wider with fear. "At the very least, would you please accept this?" She quickly pressed a beautifully beaded rosary into Mina's palm. Mina nodded, deciding to just humor the woman. "Thank you. And good day to you." She said. "May God be with you, my child." The woman replied. When Mina's back was turned, she made the sign of the cross over her._

_Mina returned to Jonathan and told him of the woman's strange behavior, but left out her ominous prediction. No need to have her betrothed thinking she was senile. "Protection from lurking evil forces? Seems like a rather ridiculous load of poppycock to me." Jonathan commented as they strolled down the dock arm in arm. Mina nodded, still feeling ill at ease. "When I said I didn't need any garlic, the woman was persistent. Then she gave me this." She handed Jonathan the rosary. "Beautiful craftsmanship on this rosary. It must have taken the crafter a long time to make it." Jonathan commented, turning the rosary about in his fingers._

_"Yes, I found that very interesting. She must have been serious if she were giving something of that value away. Well, she at least sounded very serious." Mina mused. Jonathan handed her the rosary and she put it in her basket along with the barley, Jonathan put his arm around Mina's waist. "I would not worry about it if I were you. The woman is probably not right in the head. I remember going to a gypsy fortune teller when I was a boy, and her telling me that I needed protection from evil forces as well."_

_Mina managed a small smile for Jonathan. 'You're right, why let her spoil this lovely day?" She said, trying to forget what she had just heard. Already, she could feel raw dread settling in her stomach like a lead weight. Unfortunately, the feeling followed her the whole day, as they strolled in the park, and even felt an ominous chill when the two of them went boating out on the water, then afterwards dined together in a lovely restaurant. Only when she returned to her apartment had the dread lifted some, because now she could do something about it._

_Mina already had some garlic left over from her dinner party she had hosted a few days ago. She quickly dug it up and was about to hang it when she stopped herself. "Why am I doing this?" She asked herself aloud. As soon as Mina heard her maid's light footsteps coming down the stairs, and quickly put the garlic back. "Is everything alright Miss Murray?" Jenny asked politely, looking around. "I heard some shuffling down here when I was upstairs collecting up the wash." Mina nodded. "You may return to your duties Jenny. Everything is fine here." Jenny curtsied and headed off to busy herself with her chores._

_Mina took a few deep breaths and settled herself down in her favorite armchair. She took up her knitting, and worked on the scarf she had been making for Jonathan. His birthday was coming up soon, and she knew how much he loved her handmade gifts._

_About an hour later, Jenny brought her evening chamomile tea. Mina drank it and then went to bed. As she brushed her hair, she looked in the mirror of her vanity at the reflection of her bedroom window, practically expecting something frightening to come swooping in. Thankfully nothing came; Mina climbed into bed and tried to think of what a wonderful day she'd had, and not to let it be sullied by some crazy old woman's nonsensical prediction. Her last thought she remembered thinking before falling asleep was, "What did she mean by demon? I am a Catholic woman and take my faith very seriously. What business would a hell creature have with me?"_

_The next morning, Jonathan announced that he would be leaving on a business trip to negotiate a piece of property with a Romanian Count. Mina's heart sank, "I will miss you terribly Jonathan." She told him. "I will miss you too, my dearest Mina. I shall try to hurry home as quickly as I can, and do my best to seal the deal in a timely manner." Jonathan assured her, as she walked him outside to his carriage. "I promise I'll write you every day." He added._

_Mina had remembered the rosary earlier this morning and slipped it in her pocket before she went to Jonathan's apartment for their customary afternoon tea, and this time to say goodbye. Mina placed the rosary in his palm. "Take this; it will remind you of me." She said with a sad smile. Jonathan returned her smile and tucked the rosary into his jacket pocket. The two kissed goodbye and Jonathan climbed into the carriage. The drive r cracked the reins and they were off. "Have a safe trip!" Mina called. "I will!" Jonathan called and waved to Mina, and Mina waved back until the carriage turned the corner of the street._

_Mina walked back to her own apartment, as the two were in very close proximity. The day was gray and overcast: the complete opposite of the day before. It started to pour just as Mina went inside. She heaved a heavy sigh as she took up her knitting again. In about an hour or so, if the rain had abated, she would go and visit one of her friends._

_Even if she did, she still would have no one to tell about the haunting prediction. Her friends would all think she was crazy, and Jonathan would probably ship her off to some asylum somewhere. The only thing she could do was sit on pins and needles about it, and pray Jonathan would be okay during his journey. What did she have to worry about? She would most likely receive a plethora of letters from him regardless. Mina lay her knitting aside and went to make herself a cup of tea._


	2. A Visitor in the Midst of Tragedy

**One month later**

The day was chilly and eerie. The sky was blanketed with thick, dark clouds. Rain would fall any minute, and Mina had to get home. The Professor w as also coming for a visit, he had sent her a letter a few days earlier saying that he simply had to see her. After fumbling with the key for a few moments, she was inside. She found none other than her maid Jenny sobbing on the floor with a newspaper clutched in her hand. Mina knelt down beside her. "Jenny dear, why are you crying so?" She asked, very concerned.

Jenny said nothing but only sobbed harder and handed her the paper. A few words were smeared from her tears, but it was otherwise legible. Mina's eyes skimmed over the first line. _"The bloodless corpse of a chambermaid was found lying under a Port Cochere."_ She could not read anymore, she dropped the paper and put a hand to her heart. "I must now go to the police station to claim her body." Jenny blubbered through her tears. Mina helped her to stand up, dried her eyes and wrapped her in a shawl.

After Jenny had been gone for at least half an hour, she heard a knock on the door. She answered it, and Professor Van Helsing was standing in the doorway. "Please come in Professor, and excuse my attire. I've just received some terrible news." Mina stepped aside and closed the door behind the Professor. "What has happened here?" The Professor asked. "It's Jenny…her poor younger sister's body was discovered today. The whole gruesome story is played out right there, in today's paper. It is terrible to think she was three years my junior, and now she is dead!" Mina said sadly.

"As of now Jenny is on her way to the police station to claim her sister's body and should be back within the hour. I will give her the next two days off for mourning. So, after she returns I will brew us all a pot of tea." The Professor nodded. "A terrible loss indeed, my heart goes out to the poor girl." Mina changed the subject. "Have you brought any news of Jonathan?" She asked hopefully. The Professor shook his head, remembering the letter he had received earlier that day. "Not as of yet. However, Jonathan did insist I take care of you. Perhaps we could maybe go for a stroll in the park to clear our minds of this depression tiding?" Mina nodded. "Nothing would make me happier. Please allow me a few minutes to ready myself." Mina headed to her room to get ready.

Once inside, she collapsed onto her bed. Mina took a few deep breaths and tried to calm herself. Her servant's sister had been murdered. It was so odd. She remembered seeing Elsa and Jenny talking lightheartedly as they scrubbed the floors just a mere few days ago. Elsa was such a kind girl…she did not deserve to die. She was only sixteen.

Mina paced around a bit, a habit she had developed. It made it easier for her to clear her head and relax. It would be rude to keep the Professor waiting too long, but at the same time, it was important to appear together and in control. Mina waited until the redness in her eyes had faded, sprayed on a bit of perfume and left the room. The Professor then informed her that he had some business to attend to elsewhere in London and their walk in the park would have to wait. He also told her to buy some garlic bulbs at the market, and to not let anyone into her apartment, even if they brought news of Jonathan.

_December 17__th__ 1900_

_Now that I think back on those two memories, they seem so far away from me now. Two years have passed very quickly. Never had I dreamed that I would end up here, a vampire nonetheless, and living with Count Dracula himself. Even though I had bought the garlic, I had felt quite foolish hanging it. The stench was making me quite sick, so I took them down. All of Jenny's sadness had made her quite sad and sick, so she was asleep at this time. I however lay awake. I do not know how, but I felt my body rise and walk to the window, open it and my lips move and say that Dracula was allowed into my apartment when he rapped upon the window in bat form. _

_I knew at once when I saw him that he was the demon that the gypsy woman had cautioned me against. I was powerless to resist him. I was in some sort of awful trance from which I could not fight. I then felt his fangs sink into my neck, but instead of pain, then came some sort of peaceful euphoria, as he began to sing to me. Some sort of lullaby, which I could not discern the tune. It was beautiful and eerie, all at the same time. He stroked my hair, quite an intimate gesture. It was as if he knew me from somewhere, even though I had never seen him in my life. His touch was very cold, which was not unusual, as many people had cold hands, it was his eyes that both fascinated and disturbed me. They were icy blue, with a sort of slanted pupil, like cats' eyes or snakes' eyes. I had never seen such unique eyes on anyone. Maybe he was not a demon after all, I thought as I slipped into a half conscious state. _

_I don't even like thinking about it. It stirs up so many odd emotions. Fascinations, curiosity, adoration, even love. Oh, what am I saying, I am so weary that my hand cannot stay steady as I write this. I am so thirsty, but I refuse to drink. I know that my thirst will soon consume me and I will lash out in some violent manner. Dracula always keeps some sort of stock of blood in his castle. Perhaps if the need strikes me I will drink from there. _

_Right now, we are staying at Godalming Manor in London. The servants have all worked very diligently to tidy this place up. No more bloodstains are smeared on the walls, and my bedchamber that used to belong to Lady Godalming, has been restored to its former glory. Hendrik no longer sleeps there, but on a pallet in the kitchen. Thank God I do not have to fret about finding his grimy jacket lying next to my coffin. I have never liked him, not at all. The good thing about having him around however, is we never have to worry about any sort of insect infestation, he takes care of them himself, and stuffs himself silly with the disgusting things._

_I love going for walks in the graveyard on a snowy day. The cold does not bother me at all now that I am a vampire. The world, in my opinion seems much more beautiful when it is buried under a blanket of pure white snow. Everything looks the same, and just for a moment I can pretend I am somewhere else. The one thing that disrupts my daydream is the distinct shapes of the martyred angels. No matter how deep they are buried in snow they always seem the stare at me in a most unnerving manner. It is far too impossible to pretend that they do not exist. _

___Lord Godalming certainly had interesting tastes. _

___Oh dear... the sun is about to rise. Time for me to get some much needed rest._


	3. Dracula's Recollection

_December 18th 1900_

_I do not envy those who have never tasted the sweet tang of a mortal's life force ebbing ever so gracefully from their bodies. I, of course, do not envy my prey either, the mortals, with the fleeting mental capacity of a deranged rodent, and bones and skin as fragile as glass and spider webs. Oh, but I do love how they squirm, like a small vermin one would squish under a boot._

_My existence is ideal. I am the Lord of the Night, and I rule my territory with an iron fist. I keep to myself and am close to no one, not even to my current mistress, Arianna. Nor my trusted servant, Igor. On the other hand, even, dare I venture, the lovely young Miss Harker?_

_It is apparent to me that everyone is terribly weary of moving from place to place. Nevertheless, it must be done. It is merely a clause upon the involuntarily signed document of vampirism. Everyone that is, except Igor. He shuffles into my presence, dragging his gimpy leg behind him, with a simpering smile on his crude visage. He says, "When shall I ready the horses to leave, master?" Despite his stupidity, he is a surprisingly faithful servant, always at my disposal, as it should be. If only the others would take a page from his book._

_Time is irrelevant to me. I could feel Mina's scorching eyes on me as I smashed the beautiful grandfather clock in her room, even though her nose was buried in a book. I cannot help but be fascinated by her from afar. She has a pretty, youthful face with soft features. So unlike the cruel, beautiful, hungry visage of Arianna. I cannot help but wonder to myself why whenever I turn a woman; I take away her innocence, all her memories of her past life. However, Mina is different; she has always been and always will be. Despite my efforts to teach her the vampiric ways, a stubborn part of her personage always clings to her humanity. She does not delight in killing as Arianna and I do. And she still harbors some respect for the pathetic humans who wander the Earth cluelessly. _

_I guard my journal with my life. However, the binding is after all, from the 15th century. Therefore, that almost guarantees that some pages will fall out. No matter how many I manage to pick up and cram back into it. The interesting thing is, sometimes, no matter how thoroughly I scour my bedroom, or my study, or any of the rooms in my castle, I have never found a certain small amount of the entries that had been lost over the years. I suspect that my current mistress has done her share of stockpiling under the mattress in her bedroom. Moreover, were I to sift through her belongings myself, I would surely find some hidden among the random array of items. Perhaps a pretty hairbrush or a jar of foul-smelling facial powder stolen from an English woman, and a few items from her previous life. (Such as a portrait done of her a few years before she was turned.)_

_I do not consider my vampirism a curse or a gift. I have lived with myself long enough to know that griping and complaining about my condition will do nothing to change it. Instead, I make the best of it, prowling the streets of London at night in my best top hat and jacket, adding an ornate cane for emphasis of my noble position._

_However, I do not forget the past, and am not entirely confident in a peaceful future. I know that the battle is not over yet. I know that I have broken the promise I made to myself two years ago. To exterminate Van Helsing for the last time. When the Professor once again challenges me, I will be ready. I will play upon his weaknesses and use precious little Mina as collateral. Make him beg at my feet for death. This, sadly for him, will never come. The only death that will arrive is the death of his old life, the death of all he knew before. I shall condemn him to life as one of my vampiric underlings. Teach him to hunt, teach him to take pleasure in killing, teach Professor Van Helsing ever so many new tricks. _

_The path to his defeat will not be easy, for even in his old age he is clever. I learned that the hard way from my humiliating defeat and failed execution of the spell. I also lost Jada that night, she was a faithful mistress to me and I do miss her sometimes._ _It is odd now that Mina now resides in her room. On a few occasions I have walked past the room, and the door is open. I expect to see Jada lounging on the bed, but I find instead, Mina, drinking a cup of tea in a chair by the fireside. _

_T__his is my first entry in two years. To me, that is not a particularly long time, as centuries pass by only as quickly as a day or a week would to a mortal. Just two years ago, I had the Demonomicon in my grasp. Now, it is lost. I fear one of my servants has broken my trust and taken off with it. I have thoroughly searched the castle thousands of times. I even had to endure Mina's skeptical stare as I tore into her room like a madman. I did not tear the room apart too much, I was careful in my search. Upon searching Arianna's room a few days ago however, I did in fact find my missing journal pages. And a few of her personal items, but no Demonomicon. Why was I so foolish as to assume Arianna had any concept of what I was doing? Or let alone what the hell a Demonomicon was. _

_My devoted servants and friends who do not reside in Transylvania have been scouring the world for it. A few of my Viennese friends have told me that mayhaps the scoundrel has fled back to Egypt. It is not much help, but it is a start. I shall make a journey there alone very soon. I shall most likely leave within the next week. Much to Arianna's dismay, I can practically hear her now pleading me not to go. _

_As I let my mind wander, I think of the Duchess. She was quite a kind woman and it was quite shameful of me to exploit her like that, hypnotizing her so I could get to Mina. The Duke would probably be very angry with me had he still been alive today. The Duke was one of my dearest friends, and he was one of the few who knew my secret. Now she is a ruined woman, someone stole her fortune from the Viennese Bank, and she was penniless until I offered her a job. Now she works as part of my kitchen staff, and resides at the Manor with my other servants. She only had to pay me in blood, and she is lucky I have only drank from her once. _

_I wonder if Irina thinks about me wherever she is. Mayhaps she was shown some sort of mercy and was not condemned to hell, but instead to wander in purgatory. Wherever she may be, I pray that I will have her back in my arms soon. _


	4. Mina's Recollection

**December 18th 1900**

_I pity the poor souls I prey upon. It took me ever so long to pluck up the courage to suck the blood once I had made my first incision with my fangs upon the fat neck of a butcher. All that time, under the watchful gaze of my sire._

_It bothers me that I once was among these mortals, strutting happily along the cobblestone streets, confident that the creatures of the night were restricted to the shadows and dark alleyways of London. Coming out to feed only under fair Luna's gaze._

_Most of all I pity myself._

_I am redeeming myself for my fragility and frugality in my life as a human, and leaping at every danger that I can possibly face, because there is no loss, only gain. Most of my time is spent taking walks alone. I sing quietly to myself and splash in the puddles, muddying my dress hem and boots. (The soiling of the dress matters not, as I have countless many more. Rejects, mostly. The ones his mistresses did not want, they were so kind as to bequeath to me.) My acute vampiric hearing picks up no snitches of conversation, no crisp, educated English of the noblemen and their ladies, not even a brash, discordant Cockney accent of one of the Chestnut sellers. There is not a dignified or awake soul around, only the beggars and muggers, wrapped in the invisible blanket of their own dreams. However, they do not scare me in the least, as I have diminished their numbers so severely, those few plagued with insomnia know better than to touch me, let alone look me in the eye as I pass them._

_The dreamers lay, fallen in heaps on the ground, some clutching bottles or a bundle of rags to their chest, most definitely all they own. I have even seen a small, dirty baby, swaddled in rags, cradled to a mother's chest. It pained me that the mother was so insane to figure that her child would survive such a harsh life in the streets even if it we_

_re fed all the meager rations the beggar woman found, digging in the trash cans and gutters. Then, of course, there are the mud larks. I pass them as I take a stroll down the harbor, sticking close to the shadows, and making no noise. They even work by moonlight, knee-deep in thick, soupy mud. Constantly groping blindly for a trinket that can be sold for a pretty penny, perhaps a bit of cloth or a scrap of silk, or if they are extremely lucky, perhaps even a fragment of a long-lost locket. The pictures within so badly soiled by the mud that they are indiscernible._

_My name is Mina Harker (Nee Murray) and Professor Van Helsing's attempt to rescue me has failed miserably. He may have taken down Dracula, but has not cured me in the process. For reasons that I fear will never become known to me, the Duchess invited Dracula into her manor. I now suspect that he hypnotized her. I knew nothing of this, of course, because I was resting, still feeling very weak and disoriented from the effects of the spell. After Dracula's supposed defeat, Van Helsing wasted no time in procuring a carriage and, with me in tow, leaving Castle Dracula at once. The carriage ride from the castle was not nearly as nerve wracking and awkward as my ride coming here. First off, I was barely conscious, and Van Helsing had respected that by not breaking the cloud of silence and confusion that enveloped me. Versus Dracula staring at me hungrily, and me, naively making polite conversation._

_The Professor and I drove straight through, only pausing a bit to care for the horses, and for Van Helsing to catch a few winks of sleep. We also paused briefly at the Romanian in at which we had left Dr. Seward. His stomach pains had lessened, and he was now able to travel. Because the vampiric atoms were coursing through my blood, and I was weak, and in need of blood, the Professor felt the need to stop a fourth time. I quickly shook my head no, and said that my need for blood was not as strong as he thought. Seward seemed anxious to say something, but always thought better of it._

_When we reached Vienna, Seward's stomach pains began to flare up again. The Duchess called for a physician, and he was confined to bed. Dracula, after biting the Duchess and rendering her unconscious, came up the stairs to fetch me. Van Helsing was fast asleep, oddly enough, and I wondered why. He flew through the window in bat form, as he had done before. "Poor Mina. Do not worry, I have come to take you where you belong." He said, stroking my hair and giving me some blood to drink to bring up my strength a bit. I was soon able to sit up. Nevertheless, I was still much disoriented all the same. Dracula took me by the hand, and we both changed into bats. When we arrived at the castle, he carried me bridal style to Jada's old bedroom. . I found it inconceivable that he was still alive, but, I thought very little of it as he laid me down on the bed and exited the room without another word. My first example of his strange coldness towards me. I soon fell fast asleep._

_Oh! Excuse me, for I digress._

_The reason I take the last name of my late fiancé, Jonathan, as a tribute to his memory, and an insult to my sire, Count Dracula. Mina Dracula sounds like one of his whores who he can abuse, kill and dispose of. Mina Harker sounds like a name that carries at least some dignity, but stirs up painful memories of what could have been. The Count turned him into a creature of the night, only to be saved by Professor Van Helsing by a stake and a hammer. It still disturbs me to this day, thinking my Jonathan had to go through the same things I did. The bloodlust, the feedings, and only coming out at night. _

_It has been two years since I have been bled, and I have squandered my time by feeding, toying with my prey, and spending scant amounts of time with Dracula. I have discovered that, as a vampire, I require no sleep, and I can now expand on my interests, such as painting, drawing, and archery. Occasionally I will accompany Dracula when he tours the streets of London at night. It is quite a changed place, and you rarely see that many people outside. The occasional drunken man or close-knit group of prostitutes, but other than that, that is it. Mostly they are all at home, or tucked away in brothels or pubs. _

_Since then, we have traveled extensively. It is quite necessary for the creatures of the night. Mostly we stay at his summer palace high in the Carpathian Mountains, but we will occasionally return to his headquarters in London at Godalming Manor. Currently, we reside there, but we shall make our way back to his summer palace within a fortnight. The Manor was in quite a state before, but Dracula has worked fastidiously to repair it. I added some of my own things to Lady Godalming's old room, to give it more of a feeling that it was my own. _

_Dracula himself is a solitary man. He rarely ever speaks his thoughts aloud, so, I have learned to read what he says in his eyes. However, do not twist my words. He is by no means an overly sensitive man. As, his eyes are steely gray, cold as flint, and reflect no hint of a jovial personality._

_He spends most of his time in his study, which he allows no one to enter. Sometimes, as a nice gesture, I leave a goblet of blood outside the door. I have never seen his living quarters, either. As he has many other women to take with him to bed each night. The only one I see living in this castle is Arianna, but I know not what else goes on beyond closed doors. _

_Since the spell failed, and the spirit of his first love was barred from entering my body, he had planned to try again. Only, the Demonomicon was stolen before the next full moon. This is why he keeps me around._

_Of course, had the spell worked, I would not be Mina Dracula, I would be Irina Dracula, his first, and, I believe only, true love. You would think, that by the way we interact, that I am merely a servant under his command._

_I wish I could say that I resent the Count with every fiber of my being, but I cannot, as it is not in my nature to do so. He did, after all, damn my beloved to a life of eternal darkness. However, I feel an almost overwhelming sense of pity for him. In addition, I do so wish that he would speak to me more, instead of communicating through those ambiguous ways of his._

_Just two years ago I was the subject of his adoration. Now? I am merely someone he has allowed to live in his castle. Dracula has not given up his search for the Demonomicon, and now that he has some sort of lead, he is likely going to travel to Egypt within the next week. I was thinking of asking to accompany him, as I have always been fascinated by the Egyptians and their history, but then I remember I would not be able to see the pyramids in their glory, as I cannot venture out in daylight. It makes me wonder if they are just as beautiful at night. I have decided not to harp on that idea. Why on Earth would he take me, of all people with him? He probably has some of his servants there, waiting to assist him in scouring the country for it. _

_Occasionally, I will find a random bouquet of dead, rotting roses in my room from time to time. If I had been mortal and received a gift like this from my deceased fiance, Jonathan, I would have been appalled. Now? I am not offended, but somehow pleased. Pleased that someone thought of me, and pleased that they wished to tax my brain and let me unravel the symbolism behind their gift._

_Either that, or it's someone thinking that they are playing a nasty prank on me. Someone who knew roses were my favorite flower and wanted to anger me by sending me some that are dead. _

_In my spare time spent pondering, I have come to discern that the dead roses resemble old age, the passage of time, and the denial of the simple daily needs of the flowers. Dead roses are akin to humans. As time passes, their beauty and youth withers. It also reminds me of the mud larks and the beggars I see during my evening strolls. They are neglected, and appear much older than they really are because simple needs such as food, warmth, and comfort have been denied to them._

_I decide to leave the flowers in their vase, and not throw them out until their petals have all withered and turned brown with neglect, much like myself these days. You must be wondering why I have not left the Count if I am feeling so neglected and unhappy in his presence. The answer is simple. I would not know where to go. I could possibly return home, only to find my beloved apartment has most likely been sold to another couple. I find myself unable to keep from wondering when the Count will tire of me being a burden, decide to find another beauty fairer than I as a vessel for his beloved's soul, and throw me out along with the roses._


	5. Do I Know You?

**Mina **

Today, I felt an impulse to take a stroll around the manor again. The servants are so quiet here, so obedient. Dracula has so many under his command, so many silent shadows dutifully attending to his every whim. But, he only has a few who tend to the Manor. The rest all reside at his castle. In fact, they all speak so little, and bustle about so quickly, you would think that Dracula, Igor, Arianna and I were the only ones living in the castle or the manor**. **

I quickly skirt around a serving maid wearily polishing a candlestick. Her body is hunched forward, and her hand moves slowly, the candlestick and polishing cloth held limply in her grasp. It makes me wonder and almost laugh to think that perhaps the cloth had not moved at all, and the lazy little imp had fallen asleep on the job! I lean over her, one of my long tendrils of hair falling over her shoulder. "You should be glad that it was me, and not Dracula who has caught you working at such a slow pace. I would polish more quickly if I were you." I whispered, and saw her react to the realization.

She glances up at me with wide, frightened eyes and begins to polish faster. Her pained expression makes me feel a tiny tug at what is left of my human heart. I feel a bit of guilt for saying something to make her uncomfortable. It takes me but a moment to realize that Dracula must have had his way with her. My assumptions are confirmed, as it only takes a moment to see them, plain as day. Two purple, tender looking puncture wounds on the side of her neck. She has been marked as one of Dracula's human familiars. It was a fate both gruesome and unfortunate indeed. It didn't make any sense, however. What would he gain from biting her? Perhaps he's so self-centered that he bites all of his female servants for convenience's sake. If they've been bitten before, it's less of a struggle should he decide to bite them again.

The maid sees me looking, pauses shortly to quickly cover her neck with her hair, and then feverishly returns to her duty of polishing. I then quickly stride away. Why did this woman seem so familiar? Had I seen her somewhere before? Her features were so strikingly familiar. I scanned the mental image I had made of her. She had an aquiline nose, quiet thoughtful eyes, and familiar reddish-blond hair. Oddly enough, she did not have the plain looks as many of the other serving-maids did. I pondered the thought for a second as I walked towards the library to occupy my usual perch in the large, comfy purple armchair oddly enough, no one else seemed to favor. Dracula had his chair, carved of black oak and winged, with a blood red cushion on it. Arianna never uses the library to my knowledge, and personally I doubt she even knows how to read. And the day Igor uses the library is the day he swears off jellied hearts forever.

Then, an epiphany dawns on me and I stop right in my tracks. I had indeed seen that woman before. She had in fact, acted as my hostess when I was in Vienna. The poor, weak servant maid was indeed the former Duchess Orlowski. Only now, her once proud eyes are downcast, and her once immaculately pale hands are now dry, cracked, and already so worn from her two years of servitude. This poor woman, once whole, but now broken. I wondered how she was faring under the Count's employment. Dracula uses fear to command his servants, as if he thinks authority alone isn't enough.

Even though I was never truly angry at her, just disappointed, I cannot blame the Duchess for what she did. She was under the a staple vampiric hypnotism spell and couldn't control her actions.

Now was not the time to bear grudges. And, after all, the Duchess could prove to be a useful ally of mine later on. I hoped fondly that Dracula had not taken her memories from her. Or, at least left some of her happier days. Knowing Dracula, however, the serious matter of destroying happiness as nothing more than a folly, or a sick game to him. I continue my trek to the library, keeping my eyes downcast and letting nothing, not even thoughts of the Duchess, deter me from reaching my destination.

The library is quiet and serene, and I feel at ease here. I feel like this is the one place in the castle where I can put everything out of my mind and pretend that everything is alright when it truly isn't. I settle myself in my customary armchair and take a book off of the stack that I've accumulated, that, as well as the chair, no one ever touches. Sometimes, I'll find a few more books added to the pile. I take it Dracula is either being cheeky or getting to know my reading habits quite well. I miss discussing literature. Perhaps maybe one day the subject of books will come up during a hopefully decent conversation between Dracula and me. When Jonathan was alive, we used to get into all sorts of heated discussions of the motives and actions of characters, and the message and symbolism that we gleaned from reading between the lines. _Hamlet_ always makes for good reading material, I have to admit Dracula has impeccable taste.

**Dracula: **

Meditating by day, and angrily pacing the confines of my study at night, I grow more restless than ever before. At times, I swear that I hear Lucifer himself is laughing at me, seated so comfortably upon his throne in Hell. I have discerned using various charts and maps and my own knowledge of the moon's rotation that the next blood moon would occur most likely within the coming month. Only one vital ingredient was missing. There had to be an accompanying thunderstorm that I could derive electrical energy from to power the spell.

Unfortunately, the evening of a blood moon is the only time possible to perform the rite. I must not only draw the electrical energy from the air around me to aid in my calling upon the souls of the damned to wreak havoc upon the human race, but also to power the spell itself. Van Helsing was able to destroy my barrier by harnessing the power of lightning against an array of metal objects. That shall not happen again. I will need to find a new location in which to try the spell. Preferably one that is open, but one that cannot be accessed by Van Helsing!

I have considered holding the rite it in the garden. Irina did admire nature's beauty, and it would probably be best for her to wake up surrounded by things she knows well. It will be difficult enough to adjust to living all over again, after being dead for more than 400 years. However, I am confident that our love will be our stronghold and we can start all over again. Just the two of us, without Ivan, without Irina's disapproving parents, no one to object to our union. What lay ahead of us was hopefully an infinite amount of years of peace and serenity.

I shall surround the stone slab with daemonic enchantments and spells impenetrable by even the cleverest and knowledgeable humans. However, I should not place my trust too heavily within these spells, for something always could go wrong. I must prepare for anything, as the Professor was able to solve every puzzle from opening and voyeuristically paging through my person records to infiltrating my castle and defeating me on an unfair playing field tilted towards _my _advantage.

However, I have to consider, what would happen if the spell backfired yet again? Irina's soul would be sent back in purgatory and I would wind up with an infuriated Miss Murray. She grows steadily more headstrong with each passing day. It will certainly be a challenge to get her cooperation when it comes time to perform the spell. I really would hate to consider the idea of forcing her to do anything. Hers is one spirit I wouldn't particularly enjoy breaking. I just need to hold out hope that she'll acquiesce easily with little to no resistance once the blood moon comes.

Looking back, I remember how eager I was, and how I doted upon Mina, singing to her whilst she slept, while vampiric genes coursed through her system. Now, I purposely separate myself from her.

I have noticed a change in her. Her young, naïve attitude is gone. My initial goal was to maintain her purity, while breaking her spirit. However, Mina has proved that she cannot be broken. Her aura consists of so much strength, anger, and regret; I can hardly stand to be near her at times. I can sometimes bring myself to watch her practice archery. I remain hidden in the shadows and make no noise at all.

I watch her string her bow with vampiric grace, pull back, releasing the arrow. As usual, before a human can even blink, I hear the sound of the quivering arrow as it hits a bulls-eye on the target. Her face, as she concentrates, has a sort of ethereal beauty to it, especially in the moonlight. I grow angry at myself for stooping so low as peering voyeuristically instead of merely speaking to the girl. What would I say to her? Words alone are not enough to assuage the pain that I've brought upon her. I've taken everything from her. Jonathan is dead, her innocence is long gone, and she hasn't smiled once in her two years of confinement here. Personally, I don't blame her. However, I think she needs to put aside her own pride and accept her fate like a lady instead of being so childish about all of this.

Of course, absolutely none of this can be accomplished without the aid of the Demonomicon. I have scoured my castle in search of it, yet to no avail. After Van Helsing shot me with his crossbow, I was able to rejuvenate by draining two servants of blood before I came to the Duchess's house. After I used mind control on her and retrieved Mina and brought her back to the castle, to my chagrin, the accursed book was gone! I furiously interrogated all of my servants, peered into their minds, and none of them knew a thing about its whereabouts. I found it very curious. I suspected perhaps Arianna had hidden it. But I shall never know, because I cannot read her mind. Perhaps one of my other servants carried it off, struck a deal with someone. I hate to think that after all my efforts, it was all an utter waste of time and the Demonomicon is resting in the hands of that Coptic priest. Although, perhaps things aren't as bad as my rampant imagination makes them out to be. Maybe I've just misplaced it, or it's tucked away in my library somewhere. However, it almost seems too easy to be feasible.


	6. I Need No One Else

Chapter Two:

**Dracula**

They say that idle hands are the work of the Devil. I have taken this proverb into consideration and have put Mina to work. Just because she resides in my Castle does not mean she is above my requests. If I ask her to fetch something, she will usually go without complaint. This pleases me and makes my life much easier. I have sent her to fetch a few items from a friend of mine who has been holding them for me. I expect her back within the hour, and she knows that if she does not return within the stipulated time, she'll likely feel my wrath. The thought that she has won my trust by not trying to escape so far also comforts me.

I hear the door open in front of me and I glance up from my newspaper to see who has intruded upon my reflection. Arianna lithely prances into the room and perches herself upon the edge of my desk. She then proceeds to primp her hair vainly. Although it is impossible for her to be any more beautiful than she already is, old habits die hard. "Hello darling. What are you up to this wonderful evening?" She asks with a winsome smile that would make any man weak in the knees.

"I am reflecting, Arianna." I said, not exactly welcoming her company at this moment. "There have been more killings in Satu Mare. I grow more concerned that others are encroaching on our territory. The corpses were found drained of blood, and they were killed in excess. The dead outnumbered the amount a clan of any size that we know of would require to feed upon. It is clear that these are not vampires who live by our laws."

Arianna's smiled faded. "Who do you think it could possibly be? Didn't the Council extinguish the nearest rogue clan years ago?" I nodded. "I thought we did, but you never know with vampires. There are those who so fleetingly swear their allegiance to a clan, and then turn tail and flee when they are confronted. There may still be rogue vampires living in the area who are not part of clan. Or, quite possibly, some wayward half breeds, those who weren't meant to be turned. Those left by some sloppy vampire who couldn't properly kill their prey."

"Wayward half-breeds? You mean like I once was?" Arianna said, a scowl crawling up onto her face. "Don't forget, Dracula that I was half-dead, pathetic, straddling two worlds and thirsting for blood when you found me." Her amber eyes were cold and calculating. I felt myself shiver. "I'm sorry. I misspoke." I told her. "It was so many years ago, you realize, and my memory is becoming quite vague." Arianna smirks, unconvinced.

"The year was 1541, Shortly after your Irina had perished. I was attending a masquerade held by my sister to celebrate her 24th birthday. Of course, something went horribly wrong. Rebels who did not like the ruling family at the time, ho was in attendance, attacked us. They cut the tethers for the chandeliers and let them fall, killing many people instantly. They cleaved heads from bodies without a second thought. Chairs and tables were overturned in the chaos. Everyone was screaming, and a few were praying. I watched my sister be stabbed through the heart, her eyes cloud over, and the life leave her body. I rushed to her side to hold her hand until she passed, as I did so, before I knew it, I too was stabbed through the heart.

I remember lying on the ballroom floor, watching the blood pool over my beautiful dress that I had picked in anticipation of that very evening. Bodies hit the floor with loud, sickening noises. The floor became slick with blood. Meanwhile, the rebels laughed under their masks and sang in their crude tongue. I lay quietly and waited for one of them to see that I still breathed, raggedly, and deliver the final blow to end my life.

Of course, there were the lucky few who escaped. The Queen was killed in the struggle, and so was one of the young Princes. One daughter, one son, and the King himself were able to miraculously escape. And then you came, slipped in through a broken window. You were the Angel of Death. At least, that's who I thought you were. You seemed to glide effortlessly amidst the carnage. You walked over to me when you saw I was still alive, bit me, and then gave me some of your blood. I remember wincing as you pulled the dagger out of me, and gagging at the initial taste of the blood. Yet, for some strange reason, I could not stop drinking. At the time I was confused, and repulsed, and caught up in the delirium of near death.

After a few minutes, I felt my vision clear and the blood take effect. The large rent in my chest had healed and I was left half-mad for more blood. I fed off the blood of the still-living victims until I was satiated. I did not find my voice for days to come, but still, you were there, guiding me through nightmares that came with my transformation. I stayed with you in your castle and came to accept my fate, gradually. For days I wept over the loss of my sister and friends. And you were there continually, and you still are to this day. So tell me Dracula, why do you waste your time with Mina when you have me? There's a reason I'm still your Mistress, and you know that I'll not stand for competition."

I sighed, stunned by Arianna's impeccable memory. "Thank you for the lovely retelling." I say curtly. "Nevertheless, you know quite well that Miss. Murray is of no romantic interest to me. How many times must I reassure you that I need no one else?" This was a boldfaced lie, obviously. Arianna didn't seem convinced, so I kissed her passionately and sent her from the room. She paused, leaning casually in the doorway and said. "Alright, fair enough. But I still have my doubts about you, Dracula. I grow worried whenever it seems you develop romantic attachments to your "playthings."

I waved my hand at her. "You needn't worry at all, love. Now, I need to do some more reading on these incidents. We shall continue this conversation later." Arianna's lip curled in disgust after being shooed so curtly from the room, but she obliged and I could hear the clacking of her boots gently resounding off the castle walls as she skulked back to brood in the garden. My eyes scanned the newspaper, but I could not register the words. I finally gave up trying to glean any more information at this given moment and set the paper down and leaned back in my chair, rubbing my temples. I checked the clock on the wall, Mina would be returning in half an hour at the most. It occurred to me that her temporary absence was the only reason for Arianna's good mood and her so casually bringing up the subject of my involvement with Mina.


	7. A Lesson Learned

Chapter Three:

**Mina**

I despise being treated like a servant. I don't believe however, if I threw a fit and tore apart his precious study, anything would ever change. Violence solves nothing, and destroying all of his precious books and manuscripts he's pored over for centuries would do little to assuage my anger and would only fan the flames of his. Sure, I would feel triumphant for a brief second, then Dracula would sweep in, crush my joy and make me feel like a child who's just thrown a tantrum.

I've also considered snapping, which I think one day I ultimately will. What with the bloodlust, and Dracula's impudence, and my patience wearing thin, what difference would it make if I let loose now versus later? There would be carnage everywhere, and I would likely delight in it. The dying breaths, pools of blood, and cries of mercy. His entire serving staff would mysteriously disappear and he would be surprised…possibly even proud to find me behind it. Goodness…am I really so desperate to resort to such ugly measures for a smidgeon of positive attention or dare I say it….genuine praise from Dracula?

It would be disgustingly out of character for me to do so, and I do wish to keep up appearances. Hell, who am I kidding? There's no one to impress. No one but Dracula, and sadly, his opinion matters more to me than I care to admit. This journal is the only thing I can be entirely truthful with.

Everyone sees me in just one fashion: I'm the quiet demure little thing, shot down as soon as I stand up to make myself heard. It's unfair and if I have to take any more of it, I think I shall burst. I'm so tired of being stepped on and saying nothing about it, this isn't fair. And I'm almost certain this is one of the most dysfunctional vampire and sire relationships ever played out. I wonder if there's some other presence out there, watching and laughing at us. I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if there were.

I get so angry, and I don't know why. Sometimes I'll wake up someplace entirely strange, that I've never seen before. I'll have a funny taste in my mouth and beautiful music will be gently turning over and over in my mind. Like someone's written a sonata for my madness. Dracula says it's the bloodlust, but goddamn it I will not drink! He says that if I don't nourish myself willingly, he has no need to force me, for my vampiric instincts will take over in due time. He's told me horror stories of his turning. He would be navigating in the forest one moment, and would blink and suddenly find himself surrounded by bloody corpses the next. Some of them were mangled beyond recognition, his clothes would be torn to shreds and his mouth smeared with blood, yet he would be utterly alone in the dark catacombs of Paris.

Dracula, Dracula, Dracula, why must everything I think or do somehow connect to him? He's always present somewhere, I can't escape him. It used to frighten me, but now I've come to accept it. He knows my weaknesses and how to hurt me. He says he doesn't want to, but Lord knows that he does his best to try. The Lord…if he could only see me now. There are times in my madness when I feel like throwing myself at the feet of a priest, and sobbing into his robes. It is a great pity that churches should be the very thing I should fear. When I was a child, I would always love and revere churches and what the held within. As a tender child I attended my mother's funeral, I did not cry much, I was comforted by the thought of her becoming an angel and watching over me for the rest of my days.

Now, I cannot even enter one, and the beautiful seraphim that is my mother turns her gaze away from me. It makes me feel ashamed, too human. Who can blame me for clinging to humanity? When you take away someone's salvation and make them into a monster, how does one survive in such an alien world without something to keep them going?

Imagine running through a labyrinth constantly, in absolute darkness, searching for something, but not having the slightest clue where it is. You cannot solve the labyrinth. Every corner and every turn leads to a dead-end and you find yourself dramatically pounding against the walls and screaming, but no sound is coming out of your mouth. Finally, you admit defeat and throw yourself dramatically upon the floor, sobbing. You assume that you're alone in your madness, that no one can hear you. But all the while, you know that someone or something watches you and laughs as you stumble about. Dracula was that presence, the labyrinth represents my first few weeks as a vampire.

Dracula wanted to break me quickly, so that I would be as submissive as possible when the time came. He showed me everything gruesome and uncouth for the sole purpose of frightening me. The first few days, I had absolutely no concept of time or no capacity for morals and reasoning. I was like a child again. I would kill willingly, anything to sate my bloodlust. He wanted to erase every last bit of humanity that was left within me.

One day, he took me to Egypt and under the cover of night, we rode camels to the Blood Rocks. I felt adrenaline and excitement bubbling within me, as if I weren't holding the camel's reins so tight and clinging to the beast for dear life, my tumultuous soul would have transcended my very skin! I had a black mourning veil over my face to protect my eyes, because apparently even vampires don't have the pleasure of escaping the blowing sand. I looked like a woman in suffering, making a pilgrimage, dressed in my long white Egyptian cotton garb over my red travelling dress. I thought of the veil as protection, to prevent Mustapha from seeing how pale I really was in the dim light of the tomb.

Dracula stressed that blending in was key, especially when our guide was this suspicious, and tried to relax himself by being obnoxiously loquacious. His name was Mustapha and he would babble on about this and that, nothing that was of any relevance to us. He would strain his voice and cough because of the swallowed sand, but all the same he howling over both the roaring of the sand storm and the muffling strip of cotton covering his mouth and chin. Every so often, I would enquire about the history of the place, like a curious child, and Mustapha would answer my questions. This seemed to amuse Dracula, a bit of structured history made better listening material than our guide's usual nonsense that I wasn't even sure was spoken in English half the time.

Finally, we reached the rocks, dismounted and tied up our camels. By this time the storm had dissipated and we were free to remove the garments that covered our faces. I kept my garb on, because I didn't want to ruin my brand new dress that Dracula had bought for me, so like a child I was. An unusually persnickety child. We entered the tomb and walked down a narrow passageway until we reached a door with a peculiar cross in it. Our jovial guide meticulously placed all of the things vampires were supposed to fear into the door. These included a mirror, a holy wafer, garlic, and a small vial of holy water. Dracula told me to stay back and I watched in silent wonder.

The door wordlessly slid aside and Dracula and I passed through. Dracula told Mustapha to remain here and wait for us outside. I felt awful for this man, because of the cruel way he had been dismissed. This caused me to remember how cruelly he usually treated his servants. I shuddered to think of the way he yelled and screamed and slapped the poor serving girls who were newly recruited to his staff.

"Mina, I'd like to show you something." Dracula said, jerking me roughly out of my reverie. "Follow me please." I followed quietly, and soon we were in a large room with a large, open passageway. Dracula walked into the passageway, and it was filled with mist. It was so thick that a normal human wouldn't be able to see, yet I had no problem. "Look in front of you, do you see that coffin there?" I was unresponsive as I stared at the sarcophagus, but began to feverishly nod my head when I heard a strange, animalistic growling sound issuing from within. "Dracula, please tell me what manner of creature that is. It frightens me so." I found myself saying. "That, Mina. Is an example. I found this sad example of a beast many years ago. He was once a human, just as you were. But his fate was slated for much darker things than yours. He died a painful death, and his love wanted to revive him. She got a hold of an ancient Egyptian book know as the Demonomicon. She dabbled in the dark arts and was well versed in black magic and forms of sorcery. Instead of bringing her love back in his true, human form, he became this." Dracula said with adamant disgust as he gestured to the creature, who had reached its arm out of a hole in the coffin and was now searching for any scraps of flesh that possibly lingered nearby to satisfy its hunger.

"This, this disgrace became a monster, half formed, straddling two worlds. He was not quite a beast, but was still very far from a civilized member of the undead such as you or I. So he could do no further harm, I had him carefully entombed here." I felt an intense pang of sympathy for this poor creature, but I was still very terrified. "Why are you showing me this?" I asked. "As an example of what can happen when people meddle with the dark arts. Had I turned you prior to attempting to implant Irina's spirit into you, this is what you would have become." At those very words, my knees very nearly gave out underneath me.

Dracula's words had piqued a ghoulish interest in me. "May I move closer?" I asked daringly. "I must see this for myself, up close." Dracula feigned shock, but his eyes were glittering maliciously. "Of course my dear, by all means, go ahead." I stepped over the threshold of water dividing the two platforms with ease. Once on the other side, I eased up snugly beside the coffin (because there was very little to stand on between it and the water). There was a small hole in the upper left hand of the coffin. Just large enough for the creature to reach its arm through. "You're welcome to pry the lid off a bit if you'd like." Dracula said almost teasingly. "You're certainly strong enough to, and you can't just let brute strength like that go to waste."

Like a stupid child about to put their hand near an open flame, I moved the lid. I only slide it open slightly, but with as little effort as if it were made of paper. The creature within stirred and reached its arm up. Instinctively, I jerked backwards, close to the ledge, my arms made pinwheels in the air, I tried to steady myself. I fell forward into the coffin and the creature grabbed a hold of my tarnished silver locket, the one reminder of my mother I still owned. For one moment, I looked down at it and our eyes locked. I saw all of the pain and suffering this poor creature had endured. But in the next second, it became violent and tried to grab one of my arms. I jerked backwards again, this time falling backwards, and hearing the sickening snap of my necklace being ripped off in its hand. I hit the water, which was foul tasting and smelling and made me gag, but wasn't that deep so I could swim quickly back to the plinth.

All the while, Dracula looked at me curiously. As if he didn't know whether to laugh or to calm me, because now I was very nearly sobbing over the loss of my beloved memento of my mother. "Curiosity killed the cat, dear Mina." He chided me, like the child I was, and gracefully glided over to the coffin and took the necklace remnants back from the creature and replaced the lid. "Now, have you seen all that you wish to see?" He asked. I nodded numerous times and bent to try and wring out the hem of my soggy dress the best I could, after casting off the light cotton robe.

Dracula chuckled a little as he passed me. "Why, you look like a little drowned kitten." He said, smirking and tossing something at me. It appeared to be a cloak. Where he got this from was a mystery to me. He too was wearing loose fitting white clothes. I supposed he had it on underneath. Together, we wordlessly exited the tomb. There were a million words bubbling up under my tongue, threatening to spill out through my lips. Somehow I did manage to keep quiet. I felt so stupid, why had I subjected myself to such absolute humiliation? That I did not know.

As we rode back into town on our camels, Mustapha chattered on happily while Dracula and I remained silent. He would glance over and treat me to one of his signature smirks while I stared straight ahead. The moon was full and leering above us. I was hungry. Dracula nodded as if he understood and gestured towards Mustapha. I didn't feel guilty about drinking from him. His idle chatter wouldn't serve anyone much good, and I was starting to feel faint anyways.

When we returned to the marketplace, Dracula hypnotized Mustapha into a dark corner, where I then proceeded to snap his neck and drink hungrily. That was my last lucid memory of gorging myself, instead of merely feeding enough to keep myself alive. We then began our journey by train and coach back to Godalming Manor. All the while, I never forgot what I'd seen. Little did I know, there were many more "lessons" for Dracula to teach me before he stepped down in the role of my sire. The day Arianna came into our lives, was the day he stopped paying so much attention to me. This is the one time in my extended life that I was actually thankful for her presence.

I never did get my mother's necklace back. Dracula probably still has it somewhere in his study.

Ah well, I have far too much pride anyway to ask for it back.


End file.
